


images of rapture

by sanctimonials



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Smut, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22459345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctimonials/pseuds/sanctimonials
Summary: Leon was ruined for every relationship he had since then. No one’s smile made Leon's heart stutter like Raihan’s silly grin or shark sharp smirk did. No one made Leon feel like he was flying with just a simple touch - Raihan was Leon’s world, and the dragon trainer didn’t know a damned thing.And so, Leon fantasizes - about holding Raihan’s hand as proper lovers. About Raihan sleeping in his bed, his dreadlocks splayed around him like a halo. About dinners and picnics and trips to other regions and meeting new, exciting Pokemon together.Leon fantasizes about less than sweet things as well, evidenced by the way he moans right that second, a twist of his wrist feeling particularly good as his eyes pass anexcellentselfie of Raihan in a racerback, his arms and neck gleaming with post-workout sweat.You've got brain rot, mate,a voice that sounds like Sonia's echoes in his mind.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 245





	images of rapture

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! thank you so much for taking the time to read my (thirsty as all hell) fic. a fair warning, however: this piece uses sexual cis language in regards to a trans body. the last thing i want to do is make anyone reading uncomfortable, so please be aware of this!
> 
> and if you continue to read: as always, i hope you enjoy!

A little fantasizing never hurt anyone. At least, that’s what Leon tells himself for the thousandth time this night as he strokes himself raw while scrolling through Raihan’s Instagram account. He chants Raihan’s name as shocking blue eyes and dark skin assault his senses, sounding like the gym leader’s fans at their stadium events. And this wasn’t the first time he’s found himself furiously masturbating over his rival and best friend, his hair curling at the roots as heat settles around him like a sauna. It’s a problem, he knows it is, but all he can think is  _ you’ve got Raihan brain rot _ .

“What?”

“You’ve got right brain rot, mate,” Sonia repeated as she innocently nibbled on a french fry as if she wasn’t roasting her childhood friend over one of their rare lunch meet-ups. 

“I do not!” Leon had countered, knowing damn well that she was right. 

“You’ve got two brain cells named ‘Rai’ and ‘Han’ and they’re rotten with love,” she snickered, easily dodging the fry that was thrown at her.

This conversation was nothing new between them. Leon was desperately in love with Raihan and had been for the better part of his teen years. Which, back when he was younger, was nothing shocking. Leon spent his prepubescent years “in love” with every pretty girl and boy he encountered, his list of crushes a mile long, many of which only lasted mere hours. Sonia always ignored his infatuations; they both knew Leon was full of hot air and easily impressed.

Though, with Raihan, it was different. It was slow, it took its time, and when Leon finally realized how he felt about the other boy, he fell hard.

Sonia had noticed right away, ever perceptive of Leon’s emotions. At first, Leon would admit, he didn’t quite like the other boy. They met during their Gym Challenge, with Raihan just a year older than them, a loud and brash boy who made a spectacle of throwing his weight around. He was made of barbed wire, sharp and dangerous in a way Leon couldn’t handle. But after their third chance meeting in the wild, after Leon wiped the floor with him in battle  _ again _ , it was like Raihan took a different approach to their rivalry: if you can’t beat them, join them.

“I’m still your rival but let’s be friends, too, huh, mate?” He asked as he gave Leon his prize money, his usual braggart smirk replaced by a goofy, snaggletoothed Slowpoke grin that had Leon’s heart flipping and that was that on that. 

Leon was ruined for every relationship he had since then. No one’s smile made his heart stutter like Raihan’s silly grin or shark sharp smirk did. No one made his blood boil or kept him on his toes like Raihan did during their battles. No one made Leon feel like he was flying with just a simple touch and no one made him feel like running for miles just for a chance to catch a glimpse of them as Raihan did. Raihan was Leon’s world, and the dragon trainer didn’t know a damned thing.

And so, he fantasizes. He fantasizes about holding Raihan’s hand as proper lovers and not just as friends. He fantasizes about Raihan sleeping in his bed, his dreadlocks splayed around him like a halo. He fantasizes about dinners and picnics and trips to other regions and meeting new, exciting Pokemon together. 

Leon fantasizes about less than sweet things as well, evidenced by the way he moans right that second, a twist of his wrist feeling particularly good as his eyes pass an excellent selfie of Raihan in a racerback, his arms and neck gleaming with post-workout sweat.  _ Brain rot, mate _ , a voice that sounds like Sonia’s reminds him again. 

“Ok, so I do,” Leon had conceded during that same meet-up, feeling defeated.  _ Why hide what was so painstakingly obvious _ , he had thought. Sonia knew the truth; she’d seen Leon sigh wistfully thousands of times as Raihan walked past him, has seen the lockjaw he’d get whenever the news of Raihan’s newest squeeze reached his ears, his teeth grinding in jealousy. She’d seen how Leon’s face would light up whenever Raihan would walk into a room, unexpected but wholly welcomed. It was pathetic; Leon was pathetic. “So what? How do I stop my brain rot, Miss Professor?”

“You tell him,” Sonia simply said. 

“You’re joking!” Leon squawked, almost tipping over his drink. 

“I most certainly am not!”

“All that schooling for this? Get your money back, Sonia, university is failing you, love,” Leon joked, dodging the fry that was now lobbed at him.

“Well, I think a few university courses would do your dense ass some good! Maybe help you open your eyes,” Sonia said, much to Leon’s confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re daft. You have no clue how close you are to having Raihan because your brain’s already gone to mush.”

Leon rolled his eyes as an incredulous chuckle escaped him. This was all nonsense, just Sonia’s way of trying to make him feel less pathetically enamored with his rival, and he knew it. “And what? All I have to do is tell him?”

“Yup,” Sonia confirmed, the ‘p’ cheekily popped. “All you have to do is get out of your fantasies.”

Easier said than done, Leon thinks as he continues to jerk himself roughly. His mind goes blissfully blank, Sonia’s comments about his brain rot and his fantasies shooting out of his mind to be replaced lust induced TV static. His mind flips a channel and Leon’s deep within a fantasy he visits often: a post-battle, adrenaline-fueled fuck.

Raihan’s selfie is superimposed into the mix, his skin shiny with sweat but grainy from the sandstorm Flygon created during their (imaginary) match. Leon watches as Raihan pulls off his racerback, and the idea of his muscles moving sinuously under dark skin makes Leon pant into his pillow. In this fantasy, Leon always approaches first, always reaches out to place his hands on warm skin, to kiss the delicate nape of Raihan’s neck. And Raihan sighs, angling his face just enough to reveal his smug smirk and one blue fire eye. 

“Can I help you, Champ?” He asks playfully, his sharp-toothed grin and deep voice lighting a fire low in Leon’s gut. Leon growls hungrily, both in his fantasy and in real life. Fantasy Raihan laughs at him and —

The fantasy skips then, Leon too impatient to fully enjoy the spectrum of his imagination. He finds himself kneeling between Raihan’s long legs, the other man practically reclining on the bench. He’s got Raihan’s shorts off, his boxers the only item of clothing between them. Leon can smell Raihan’s musk from where he’s perched (never mind that, now in his room, Leon’s smelling his own sex, hot and desperate) and his mouth waters.

“Get to it, mate, before someone comes off the pitch and catches us,” Raihan says, wiggling his hips. Leon obliges, not because he doesn’t want to prolong his desires but because his fantasy can only go so for long. He pushes his head forward and presses his lips against where Raihan’s cunt is, wetting the fabric. He tentatively presses his tongue out, and he feels the cherry roundness of Raihan’s clit against his tongue. He moans as he licks it through Raihan’s boxers. And Raihan moans in return as Leon’s noises send vibrations up his body. His moan is a sound Leon has to haphazardly create using everything from groans Raihan has made because of bad jokes to the tired moans made after a long day of Gym leader duties. Leon’s cock twitches in his hand, becoming slicker and slicker in his palm as he licks fantasy Raihan wet. 

“Oh fuck, Leon,” Raihan pants, his hips bucking as Leon becomes more confident with his tongue. He can feel the way the gym leader’s thighs tremble under his hands, minuscule earthquakes under hot skin. He suddenly feels Raihan’s hand in his fringe, gently prying him off of his pussy.

Raihan lets out a frustrated puff of air, mumbling, “can’t feel a damn thing...”. He lifts his hips up to slide down his boxers, revealing his cunt to Leon. With his long fingers, he gently pries open his lips, revealing the wet and shiny pinkness inside.

The idea of Raihan’s cunt is enough to have Leon stopping his hand, too close to climaxing right at that moment. He pushes his face into his pillow, his ears burning with embarrassment as needy noises escape him. He has never gone that deep into his imagination before, too respectful of Raihan to think of the other man’s bits and pieces. He would always stop at a simple handjob or blowjob, never go further to actually imagine what was under Raihan’s underwear. 

But now that he has, he can’t help the questions that come with it. Would Raihan want him to touch him there? Would he let Leon use his mouth or just his hands? Leon shuddered at the next thought: would he want to fuck Leon into the mattress? Until he cried, until he screamed, until Leon couldn’t take it anymore?

That was a fantasy for another time, Leon decided. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to think of how he’d pleasure Raihan.

“C’mon, Champ, ain’t got all day,” his fantasy Raihan teases, his voice low with anticipation. And Leon obliges, leaning forward to press his lips against Raihan’s cunt. He revels in the way Raihan arches, his hips rolling desperately. “Make it good, Lee,” Raihan pants, flashing Leon a sharp smirk. “Since I lost and all. Make it up to me.”

And does Leon  _ make it up _ . His imagination skips then, like a record desperate to get to the best part of a song. Leon’s mind is filled with Raihan writhing under him, his long fingers splayed against his toned stomach and the others curled in Leon’s fringe. He pants with desperation, rumbling moans escaping him as Leon’s tongue circles his clit and licks a broad stripe up his opening. Leon wishes he could feel the wetness of Raihan against his lips in his real life, the syrupy thickness of the gym leader dribbling down his chin. He imagines the filthy noises that would ring around them, and the smell of sex and sand that would permeate the air. The idea that he would never experience those things fires an ache deep inside him that has nothing to do with lust.

Leon ignores that ache and pushes it out with the heat of his own building climax. He curls his own fingers into his purple hair, pulling at the roots to emulate how he imagines Raihan would pull as he licks the other man into completion. He can feel his balls tightening as his fantasy runs amok, no longer as sharp as it was in the beginning, but just as intense. He thinks of Raihan’s knees squeezing his head as he rocks his hips against Leon’s lips and chin, chasing his own pleasure with loud, impassioned cries.

“Oh, fuck, Lee — Lee! I’m-I’m close, I’m gonna — oh, Leon!”

Leon spills over his fingers as Raihan shudders against his tongue, his back bowed tight. Leon wishes he could hold onto the image longer but the locker room and Raihan’s trembling breaths begin to fade like mist, revealing Leon’s own bedroom to him with only his own ragged breathing to accompany him. He continues to slowly stroke himself, milking his cock for all it’s worth until it hurts, everything too raw and sensitive.

With a sigh, he throws his arm out to the side, careful not to sully his poor Rotom phone, which takes its cue to hover away. As he catches his breath, Leon feels the familiar guilt and shame well up in his chest. But he has learned long ago how to sleep with it, and, as he turns to ready himself for sleep, the young champion takes it upon himself to ease those emotions by opening up Raihan’s social media account and liking his racerback selfie. He sleeps with the earlier ache weighing down on his chest.

That night, Leon dreams of long arms holding him tightly around his waist, and the smell of sand and loc gel.

**Author's Note:**

> we all got raihan brain rot.
> 
> kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
